


A Confusing Dinner

by albionsbellatrix



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, They stare and are in love that's all, nothing polished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albionsbellatrix/pseuds/albionsbellatrix
Summary: Emily eats a lot. Alison is too distracted to.





	A Confusing Dinner

Alison Dilaurentis watches Emily Fields with intent eyes.  
She's seated across from Ali, her hair worn down as usual, waves wrinkling around the glimmering slopes of her smile. Her bare muscular arms, pointing to the years of swimming, to the years of strenuous work. She wears a simple chain around her neck, empty of pendant, but perfect in the way it sits against the golden slope of her neck.  
"Ali, what're you staring at?" Spencer asks, jolting her away from her stream of thought.  
She shifts her focus, careful not to make the action seem too surprised even if, that is exactly how she'd been taken. Her eyes are tempted to flick back to Emily briefly, but she resists, regarding the plain stare of her friend.  
"Nothing," Alison replies. "Just thought I saw something outside".  
"Are we talking stalker outside or murderer outside?" Hannah quips, balancing a carrot, roasted at the edges on her palm.  
Aria's eyes widen, she looks behind at the window, shifting uncomfortably. Her grip on her phone irreverently tight.  
"A tree branch shaped like a..." Alison breathes as if clearing her lungs out instead of thinking of something plausible to lie about, "an owl".  
"So... you saw an owl?" Spencer asks.  
She reaches for the pepper, giving Hannah a quick nod. Some unshared acceptance that something about the carrots wasn't totally right.  
Emily chews hard and fast, shovelling potatoes into her mouth. Her forrk moving methodically, zig-zagging through her plate. The carrots consumed and the gravy darting back and forth against the roast chicken at the side of her plate. She almost forgets to breathe, her legs occasionally bobbing as she shifts in her seat. The tip of her shoes poking the bare sandal-wearing ankle Alison stretches out.  
"I just saw something and," Alison pointedly looks at Hannah rolling her eyes, "it wasn't a murderer".  
She'a acutely aware of Emily's foot, the other girl completely unaware to what it was doing obviously, her gaze trained on the roast now.  
Aria coughs, looking down at her phone. Something had begun to seem off about her, Alison couldn't put a finger on it, but then again she was thinking of her fingers elsewhere...  
Tender places like the curve of Emily's cheek. Across her sharp jaw. Holding the small of her back. Undoing the hem of her jea-  
Somewhere in the living room, an old 90s film blares away. Gunshots every so often, interspace with the sound of rain and a woman screaming. One of them jumps at the sudden sound, but they all elect to ignore it.  
"How do we know that everywhere in Rosewood isn't trapped?" Hannah asks, genuine suspicion painted on her features. She reaches up to scratch behind a messy bun, held up by a worn out hair tie.  
"Do you mean tapped?" Spencer questions, trying not to smile.  
"I think she means both," Aria explains, seemingly thinking about anything else. The girl hadn't touched her food, her fork limp in her hand like an ornament.  
Somewhere below the table, her boots are caked in mud on a night when they'd all supposedly stayed in.  
Supposedly.  
"I think we should finish dinner and watch a movie," Alison announces, taking the reigns as usual.  
Watching a movie was what friends did together, they were at her house so they could curl up near the TV, she could microwave some popcorn long enough to have everyone already seated and pray that no one sat next to Emily. She could probably sit next to her, lay a blanket since it was cold. Brush arms, touch hands, lean on shoulders, whispers things...  
Somewhere in her pocket, she had a necklace. Still in its packaging, new and shiny. Somewhere in the depths of her belly, she had hidden courage. Sitting across from Emily, she just wanted to stretch out and place the necklace around her neck. To hold her at the hips and fall into her warm embrace. To breathe her in, to be consumed by her. To do everything she'd been thinking of lately.  
Emily drinks down a glass of water, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Alison gratefully.  
"That was delicious," she says.  
The other girls are talking to each other, checking their phones and trying to see owls outside. Alison can't believe that they miss what she sees in that moment. Low eyelids, tender-looking lips, that soft, soft gaze and a hand reaching out to her, beckoning gently. Before she knows it she's reaching out too, her mouth slightly open, the table between them impossibly rude.  
She hears something about her being a good cook, a squeeze on her arm, a bright smile directed at her. Only for her. She can swear she feels Emily's foot rub against her ankle and she gasps, because had it just caressed up her bare shin? Had she imagined that? Had they shared a knowing look. One of those looks. She'd know wouldn't she? She'd practiced, she'd done her time with all those boys. Her heart picks up, she can feel a blush creeping up her neck and she realises her toes had been clenched. She breathes out, relaxing her muscles and reaching for her glass of water. Her eyes remain fixed on Emily.  
'A tall glass of water, alright'.  
Alison watches Emily with intent eyes.

 

Somewhere in the owl-shaped tree, A.D watches in confused silence as they note Alison Bi-laurentis eye-fcking Emily Fields.

**Author's Note:**

> im not even on this plane of existence anymore but I had to write this lmao I hope you're all well x


End file.
